A Mother's Love?  Chapter 1 Not Again
by riley.noble
Summary: The Doctor, Amy, and Rory visit Chrome Laboratories during the era of robot/human hybrid experimentation. All is well until the Doctor receives a message picked up by his screwdriver-someone calling for help.
1. A Call For Help

"_**And so the natural curiosities that all races have had about cyborgs up until this point in time are tested and, when successful, manufactured right here in Chrome Laboratories. This concludes our automated tour. Thank you for you visit." The female projection beside Rory vanished and the Doctor sighed in relief.**_

"_**Really you to, if you wanted to learn about robots in history The TARDIS's memory bank would've set you right in a flash."**_

"_**Yes, but Doctor exactly how many times does someone from the 21st**__** century get to visit a cyborg factory?" Amy's arm draped lazily around Rory's as she leaned in to examine a nearly-fossilized first edition scanning bot from 3045.**_

"_**Be that as it may, couldn't we have visited somewhere less depressing?" **_

"_**What do you mean depressing?" Rory asked, aware of the Doctor's less-than-pleased expression, which he'd been sporting since the subject of robots and robot/human hybrids had arisen the previous morning. The Doctor had been telling them about his adventure on a ship called Poseidon, and had mentioned a rather unconfident cyborg named Balakafalatta who had found his courage and saved the day. Amy had found it inspiring.**_

"_**How did they ever actually manage cyborgs, Doctor?" She'd asked. **_

_**When they'd arrived at Chrome Laboratories, the Doctor's enthusiasm had disappeared almost instantly, and he'd stared at the massive concrete building with agitation and worry. Rory's observation was pushed to the back of his mind as Amy pulled him toward another exhibit.**_

_**That was when the Doctor heard it again, the small voice that had called out to him the moment they'd arrived. It was most definitely not a telepathic message-he saw no face to match the voice, but it was a clear, if very soft, cry for help. He listened carefully, closing his eyes, trying to locate the source of-hold on, he thought, and reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his screwdriver and stared intently at it.**_

_**It was louder this time, though still distorted. The voice was coming from the screwdriver itself. **_

"_**Great," he said absentmindedly, "First the TARDIS now my sonic." As he became more and more enamored by the possibility of all his gadgets possibly possessing the ability to speak, Amy and Rory finally noticed his behavior.**_

"_**Doctor what is it?" Amy looked at him, confused. And then the Doctor realized what was more likely to be happening.**_

"_**Interference," He said quietly, this time looking around the entire room.**_

"_**What?"**_

"_**Interference. My screwdriver is picking up signals from somewhere in the building, signals from a robot," They walked briskly back the way they'd come, looking for something he'd missed before, something that might give them a clue as to where the signal was coming from. They stopped suddenly in front of an unmarked door. The Doctor Scanned it and smiled.**_

"_**And whoever is sending the signals is calling for help."**_


	2. I Know What's Happening

"What, so, a robot calling for help?"

"That's my guess, and by the sound of it, I'd say we're getting close." The voice was getting louder and clearer.

"Doctor wait, there's something-"

"yes, I know," he cut her off, "Robots can't speak. Well, sort of, they have voice boxes and recorded replies, but no emotion, no happy, no sad, no fear,"

"So then the question is," Amy interjected, only to have the Doctor finish her sentence again.

"What sort of robot," They rounded a corner and stopped, clearly having found what they were looking for, "Calls for help?"

Before them stood a young woman with dark straight hair and a ripped, dirty blue dress. She covered her eyes with her left hand and reached toward them with her right. On her palm was a tattoo of an eye, which shimmered deep green in the dim light. The Doctor understood immediately.

"Of course," He stepped toward the woman slowly, "Hello there you," As he approached the woman backed away.

"Aine!" A voice from behind the young woman called. A plump woman in oil-stained overalls bustled noisily toward them, looking angry and fierce.

"What are you lot doing here? This place isn't part of the tour, go on! Get out!" She jabbed a finger at the direction they'd come. Not to be deterred, the Doctor spoke.

"Evening, madam, so sorry to bother you. My…communicator picked up a distress call and led us here, we thought it might have been our friend playing a practical joke. Ran off when we first got here, you know, that lot. Might I inquire after your names?" He glanced between both women hopefully.

"…I'm Camille, this is Aine. I'm her caregiver, her guardian."

"Did you adopt her?" Amy asked. Camille rolled her eyes.

"I designed her." Camille snorted. The Doctor whipped out his screwdriver and scanned Aine up and down.

"She's a cyborg,"

"That's right, the first of her kind, too," Camille sounded proud.

"The first?"

"Absolutely, and the best. No sight, so speech, just obedience. The ideal household utensil." She laughed. The Doctor, however, was less than pleased.

"Then what do you call that?" The Doctor pointed at Aine's outstretched hand.

"Think of it as a kind of sonar. Has to know where she's going, doesn't she." Camille stood firm.

"Who was she?"

"Don't know. She just wandered in here one day, same as you, asking-volunteering to help us any way she could."

"And you made her into a slave, a girl you didn't know, a girl who had a life, a family." It wasn't a question. The Doctor glared at Camille and she glared back.

"What I do for us is none of your business, and I'll not have you bursting in here telling me how to do my job. Out, all of you." She grabbed Aine's tattooed hand and dragged her inside.

The Doctor watched them go, his lips pressed in a tense line of disapproval.

"Doctor, her tattoo—"

"I know," he interrupted once again. "Deep green, metallic, wires and circuitry running from the sensors in her hand to her brain so she can see what's around her, sort of." He put his hands on his hips.

"But that doesn't make sense," his voice trailed off as he started to pace, muttering to himself.

"Hand has a circuitry tattoo, a tattoo shaped like an eye. Makes sense, sensors instead of eyes, wants eyes…covers eyes with her other hand. Doesn't have eyes…" He stopped and glanced in the direction Camille and Aine had gone.

"So why cover them?" He lurched forward and burst through the crude door before them, finding Camille hovering over Aine's hand with a screwdriver.

"Wha-!" Camille rose quickly. "I told you lot to sod off!"

"Language Camille, really," The Doctor said as he brushed past her and squatted down in front of Aine.

"Aine," he said softly, and her hand rose slowly to 'look' at him, waving side to side slightly, taking in his entire face.

"Get out!" Camille snapped, though she didn't move a muscle.

"Aine, can you see me?" The Doctor continued, ignoring the older woman's protests and orders. Aine's head turned quickly to face him, as though she was looking at him through real eyes.

"Alright, hold up one finger for yes, two for no, yes?" Aine paused for a moment before slowly curling her fingers into a stiff 'one'.

"Brilliant, my girl, wonderful. Now, Do you know where you are?"

One

"Do you know what…who you are?"

One

"And Camille, here, she takes care of you, good care?"

One. The Doctor looked at Camille when he asked his next question.

"And she's your mother."

It wasn't a question, but Aine still held up a single finger in response. Camille, Amy, and Rory, were all a bit taken aback by the Doctor's discovery.

"N-none of your business!" Camille shouted again, this time moving to stand between the Doctor and Aine.

"Aine called for help, Camille, and I can assure you that when someone uses my own sonic screwdriver to deliver a personal rescue request to me, it is absolutely my business." Camille glared at him for a moment, considering accepting his challenge, then let out a short, heavy breath, almost a sob, before placing a gentle hand on Aine's shoulder.

"Help her, Doctor, please." Her voice was weak now, and tired, and sad.

"You're right, she is my daughter…and she's dying."


	3. Help Her

"_Help her, Doctor, please." Her voice was weak now, and tired, and sad._

"_You're right, she is my daughter…and she's dying."_

"I know. I've seen this technology before. It was crude then, underdeveloped, but now," he gestured, impressed, at Aine. "Now it's really showing some promise."

"Then why isn't it working?" Camille asked helplessly.

"I know yet, but I'm working on it, now, Aine," he moved his hands carefully to either side of her face and spoke softly.

"You know something's wrong with you,"

One

"Do you know what's happening to you then?"

A pause. Two.

"Ah," he touched his forehead to her gently. "I can help you, Aine. I can try to make you better. Will you let me try?"

Another pause, longer this time…One.

"Trust me," he said with a small smile, grasping the hand that lay over her eyes, and carefully moving it away.

Camille didn't look. She couldn't. She had done this to her own daughter. It was her fault.

Amy's hand rose to cover her mouth, and Rory just stared in disbelief. The Doctor's expression was grim as he explained.

"Nanobots. Teeny tiny microscopic little robots designed to heal and mimic the human form, and they're eating her alive."

Aine's face where her eyes should have been was nothing but a hole. It was grotesque in that her brain was quite visible, all but the parts that had been chewed away.

"Aine!" Camille cried. "Why didn't you let me know it was getting this bad!" she fell to her knees and sobbed into her hands.

"Doctor?" Amy finally found her voice. "What…what exactly is happening to her?"

"The human part of Aine has an advanced form of cancer, the incurable kind that destroys you from the inside out. But Camille is clever, and connected. Is this legal? Do they even know she's here? Nevermind. The nanobots are programmed to heal based on what they know about the human body, but this is different, these aren't healing her, they're not even keeping her human," with a quick glance at Camille, he continued, sure of the truth.

"Aine was already a cyborg when the nanobots were introduced, and knowing nothing of the human anatomy before encountering her non-biological parts, they assumed that's how humans were built. But they should have known." This time he looked pointedly at Camille, who was trying to avoid his glare.

"What did you do to them? I fixed this years ago! This was never supposed to happen again, so what did you do?" Camille's eyes finally swam with tears as the truth came out.

"I-I wiped their memories. I wanted them to know no one else but her. I wanted her to be perfect, not have her cells get accidentally mixed up with someone else's so I just…I reset them all and injected them into her blood stream."

"They're killing her—"

"Don't you think I know that!" Camille screamed. "Before she was perfect! She was happy and always smiling and running. She was real. Then when her heart went bad…"

"It was easy to upgrade to a more dependable option. The nanobots found her artificial heart and went to work, didn't they? No discrimination between living cells and circuitry, what should be real and what should be mechanic. They're rebuilding her, and when they're through, she'll be nothing but a metal statue."

A small movement made all four of them turn to look at Aine, who was holding up two trembling fingers.


End file.
